I was lying on the couch trying to go to sleep last night and all I could think about was death. I look across the room from where I was trying to sleep and there is the shelf Ned set up, where we have memories of all of the loved ones who have died.
On another shelf is a big figure of Gilbert Russak as Jack Point, and pictures of Paul and David.
And I'm thinking of death because of a friend who is battling cancer right now. I can't seem to do anything but stare off into space and worry.
I have a big pile of letters to be answered and I can't seem to get to them.
Somehow writing pen pal letters just doesn't seem to work when you are worried about a friend's health.
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